


how to make a boy feel warm

by Anonymous



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Roman tries a normo activity with Gerri's help.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29
Collections: Anonymous





	how to make a boy feel warm

He begins with touch. 

Roman dips into her heat like he’s extracting honey from a beehive or scooping fresh jam out of a jar  — as if he’d ever been allowed to do either of those things. It’s unpleasant at first because her sounds mean nothing to him yet. Just shallow breaths that slow or quicken or sometimes cease altogether if he doesn’t give pressure time to build. He doesn’t know which part of her that he’s got the pads of his fingers on anyhow. He had health instruction at military school. He knows what’s what because of porn and old magazines. He’s been the rich boy at parties, the rich man at clubs where such anatomy has been presented to him; most of the time without consent. 

He’s been shown plenty before by women who loved him less than Gerri does.

It’s only that he’s frightened to really look at her there just yet, though he desperately wants to. 

When he first begged her to let him touch her like this, she’d had to pause and spend awhile weighing which direction to travel. She’s so fucking clever, so observant, so learned in the art of him. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking before he’s even thought it sometimes. 

“It’s okay to go slow.” He can hear her voice still from before they even began. “I don’t expect you to be a pro at it, so relax. Just be brave, ok?”

She also knows when he feels caught out, like prey. She’s seen the animal in him run for cover more times than she can count. She must’ve thought he’d either make it halfway and retreat or he’d crawl so far into her that he’d stay and eat for a thousand years. Either way, she decided to give him this chance. Maybe all it takes is someone to try for him.

He opens his eyes for her as she opens up for him, her legs moving further away from his body so he has plenty of room to explore. He smells her now. He hadn’t before, too overwhelmed at first to get a whiff of anything but his fear and the perfume of anxiety she’s been trying valiantly to hide from him. 

He understands he’s not the only one who isn’t quite sure how to act.

He thinks the first thing to do is make her bloom for him like a flower, or take her apart like an unctuous fruit to get to the meat of her. 

He begins by spreading her soft, plump lips. She’s rosy pink inside. He’s thankful for the texture of the hair on her mound that surrounds her — couldn’t initially bear the idea of her ever being totally smooth, unripe, taken to youthful standards of what she’s meant to look like. He prefers her natural state, wanting to accept whatever garden she’s grown.

He doesn’t mean to, just excited is all, but he’s a tad rough as he delves into her folds. It’s as if he’s tracing the slit of a papaya and trying to knock out all the seeds. 

“Gentler, Rome,” Gerri encourages quietly, in the voice she uses before she takes a thorn out of a lion’s paw. “You’re doing fine but I’m not that...” He thinks she nearly uses the word _wet_ , “I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. He slows, eases up, would rather die or not do this at all if he’s going to end up hurting her. He regrets asking her not to touch or pilot him when he made her lie down.

He chances a glance up at her flushed face, searching for approval. Her blue eyes are huge and dark. He’s strangely captivated by them and entirely struck that his reaction wasn’t to give up or to run away. He finds it’s the same in this bed as it is in their every day lives. It pleases him to please her and adjust to her needs.

Another shocking thing, his cock aches. He’s never made it this far before. He’s never been able to get hard while touching someone else so intimately. He’s only had a few personal trainers tug on him until he’s had no other choice but to fill out and even then, it’s never felt this good.

A new concern arises that if he grinds against the mattress, he’ll ejaculate too quickly and not be able to finish his task. He keeps his hips as still as he can while he refocuses on Gerri’s cunt. He uses his fingers to examine her and get a feel for her shape. It’s fucking weird, but he has a split second thought that it’s kind of beautiful. Her flesh is so soft, so pliable. He has to swallow a thick glob of saliva, his mouth watering.

He feels suddenly possessed by the urge to devour her, to bury his face where his digits have only just been. It’s a terrifying concept and they hadn’t discussed whether he’d be able to do it this session, or ever. He finds his cock twitch at the possibility of surprising her by attempting it. He remembers her once telling him that she imagined if she could just get him to latch on, some feral instinct might kick in. 

He wets his lips and closes his eyes and pushes forward until he can feel her sticky sap and swollen flesh against his nose and mouth. 

He hears a gasp. 

It’s disorienting for him — that all consuming moisture — and he might just fail and disassociate, staying very still against her until he hears her saying something above him. 

He hears, and it’s husky, “Hold on, Rome.” 

He feels a slight pull of her cunt away from him and its instantaneous how he almost cries. “You’re doing so good,” she’s just repositioning herself to get her hands in his hair. He’s fine with that, welcomes it even. He needs help anyhow. She firmly angles his head, showing him where to go. “It’s okay now,” she says. He’s being smothered but he can hear that she’s smiling. “Eat, baby.” 

His tongue darts out and begins delving into her folds.

He can’t fathom how but he’s doing this.

Her hips and hands are attempting to control how he moves but this is brand new and if she maneuvers him too much, he knows he’ll come from all the tactile stimulation before he’s eaten his fill. 

Sensing the weight of her thighs coming back to crowd him and no longer in need of his hands, he wraps his arms around her thighs. He splays one hand on her lower belly and rests the other on her mound. He pets the thicket of hair there absently as he settles in to feed.

He urges her to be patient  — letting her guide him but still letting her know he wants some autonomy. He drags his tongue flat between her thick lips, up and down, the tip dipping into where she’s oozing nectar. The taste of her makes him start to whine something awful and he can’t stop. She’s rich and bitter and metal and he thinks he shouldn’t like it but the more he licks in, the more addicting it becomes.

He tries fucking into her after she starts pulling his hair, cautiously and then making his scalp burn once he manages to bury his tongue as deep as it can go. She feels incredible around it. He’s so fucking hard and turned on that he can’t help but grind his erection down into the mattress, chasing the feeling that’s tightening his balls.

She gives him a final tug, bringing him to suck on her engorged clit before her cunt clamps down on nothing and she’s coming hard. He is too, just as she’s drenching his face and he abandons her clit to swallow everything she’s giving him. His brain is hazy  — all fucked out — but he thinks he’ll never be afraid of _wet_ again.

"I had your pussy in my mouth." He feels blissful. "At first it was fucking scary but I think I liked it."

"It was a good start, Rome," he hears her beginning to laugh, knows her nose is scrunching and her eyebrows have shot up into her hairline. "And — thank you. I think?"


End file.
